


Blackened Lense

by Runaans



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blind Character, F/F, M/M, Multi, Polyship Roadtrip, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 10:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13339095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runaans/pseuds/Runaans
Summary: What would happen if Prompto was the one who wore the Ring of Lucii, who lost his eyesight and saved Noctis from Ardyn?





	Blackened Lense

Prompto loves scenery, he adores taking pictures, he drinks in everything he sees, always in awe of what's around him. He's always looking for picture opportunities, going through the best filters, getting the _perfect_ picture.

But now? Now everything is black. He'll never see the sun again, never see the golden flecks in Gladios eyes, never see how Ignis' eyes seem to drink in the blue sky, Prompto would swear up and down he could see the sky in his eyes and that Ignis’ eyes changed slightly with the sky reflecting in them, how it makes his beautiful green eyes so extravagant, how at night, the fire would make Noctis' blue eyes glow, in a way that creeped him out some nights. How they all looked so much older in their eyes, but their smiles made them seem younger.

He'll never see Cindy again, or Iris, never see another chocobo, never see the rain, or the sun, never see Insomnia, or Galdin Quay, Altissia, or Tenebrae.

He couldn't shoot his gun now, he couldn't fight alongside his friends, snap pictures of them in battle. Prompto wouldn’t be able to play Kings Knight with the three of them, see Noctis pout when he lost a battle, see Ignis smirk, smug, when he won. He wouldn’t get to see the scenery pass by as they drive around, making it pointless for him to sit in the front seat.

Prompto’s breathing was calm, slow, despite his racing thoughts. He could feel the bandages around his face, covering his eyes, he knew he was in a hospital, and he wasn’t alone, he could hear Gladio snoring, it sounded too far away to be the heavy weight on his arm, he could feel Ignis’ glove on his other hand, holding it gently, so the weight had to be Noctis.

He swallowed hard, trying to pull his arm away, and stopped when Noctis groaned and shifted slightly. He decided to wait for Noctis to settle before moving again, but never got to that, his friend bolting straight up with a loud gasp of his name, and before Prompto could say anything there was a strangled noise and warmth pressing into his body, arms wrapped around his body, he could feel Noct breathing into his neck. The other two were moving, awake now, but his attention was solely on Noctis crying into his neck, clinging to him desperately.

“Are you in any pain, Prompto?” Ignis asked, worry tainting his voice. Prompto murmured that he was not in pain, he’d wrapped a single arm around Noct, the other still claimed by Ignis.

“Noct, you’re smothering him.” Gladio was the next one to speak, and Noctis moved as if he was going to pull away, but Prompto tightened his grip and pressed against Noct’s back.

 _“Don’t.”_ Prompto rushed the word out, clinging to him. “I _need_ this.”

Noctis slumped against Prompto again, but he didn’t stop moving, he moved himself closer, legs flipping over Prompto’s and he leaned against him sideways. Prompto could imagine how Noct was sitting, but he would’ve preferred to see it. Warmth seeped into his body, warming him. Prompto felt so cold, he didn’t know if it was because the room was cold, or if using the ring did this as well. He tugged his hand from Ignis’ grip, whispering a quiet apology as he held Noct with them both.

“Why did you do that Prom?” Noctis asked, still clinging to him.

“Duh, to save you! I did good!” He attempted to joke, to sound happy, but it fell flat. Noct tightened his grip, face pushing harder against Prompto’s throat.

“You could have _died_ , you lost your- the doctors say you won’t be able to- to see ever again.” Noct sounded like he was in physical pain. Prompto didn’t know how to respond, he knew he would never see anything again, he could feel it, there was a burning behind his eyes, an absence he couldn’t describe. He didn’t cry that night over the loss of his sight, when he did cry over it, no tears were shed, along with his sight, he lost the ability to cry, his tear ducts had been ruined.

Prompto would never see Noct smile, never see Ignis cook, never see Gladio grin as he won during a spar. He wouldn’t see the dawn come back, see Luna and Noct tell fate to go figuratively fuck itself, see Insomnia get rebuilt. He learned his friends all over again, by the way they walked, set down a cup, chopped food up, took a breath. How their hands felt, how their faces felt, he had to relearn everything, but he couldn’t teach himself how to take pictures again. Even if his friends helped him take pictures, it wasn’t the same.

Prompto was blind, he wasn’t helpless, he could take care of himself, but the fact remained that he was blind, and he hated it. He hated how he couldn’t shed a tear over it, how his eyes remained dry, he didn’t consider it truly crying, he went through the motions but no release truly came.

Luna and Noctis never got married, but they did agree, for the sake of continuing bloodlines, that Luna would be a surrogate mother for Noctis, and Noctis was a sperm donor for Luna, who wanted a child to raise with her wife.

Prompto wouldn’t get to see any of this. He could never stop thinking about what he was missing, what he _would_ miss.

He wanted his sight back, but he wouldn’t change what he did for it. He would rather be blind and have Noctis alive, than have Noctis dead and be able to see.

Prompto shook, went through the motions of crying when he was alone, which was often, he didn’t go with the others when they made public appearances, not because he was ashamed of how he looked, but he wanted this time to himself, to pretend he was crying, to stop pretending everything was alright.

They came back early, the day Prompto found his camera, the day he smashed it to pieces and sobbed over it, the day he clawed at his face, needing to feel something wet dripping down to feel better. He could hear them talking, felt himself get pulled into Gladio’s arms, felt Noctis grip his wrists, trying to pull them away from where they were digging into his face, felt Ignis begin helping him, and when they got his hands away, Noctis was holding his face. All three of his lovers were trying to comfort him, but he couldn’t hear them, he didn’t want to hear them.

Prompto begged them to destroy all of his cameras, sell them, throw them away, he didn’t care what they did but he didn’t want them. They finally agreed, but Prompto knew they really just boxed it all up and put it where he couldn’t get it. It didn’t matter to Prompto, he never picked up another camera again.

**Author's Note:**

> I have an idea for a second part, so let me know if you want more!  
> Constructive criticism is not accepted.


End file.
